


A Sin Confessed

by FanFictionaries



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bounty Hunters, Choking, Dark, F/M, Swearing, Teeth, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:42:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23813245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FanFictionaries/pseuds/FanFictionaries
Summary: Brenna Wright was not a good person and the blue-eyed stranger that brought old memories to the surface of her mind? Well he was just a job.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	A Sin Confessed

Brenna Wright was not a good person. Anyone who thought otherwise was either unfortunately ignorant or foolishly optimistic.

Things that would stop others in their tracks, were as simple as picking out furniture or ordering food at a restaurant for her. It was never a question of whether she should or should not – only the dilemma of _who, what_ and _how much_. Sure, she had her limits. Every woman did. The only difference being, the limits of most were trivial aspects of pride, egoism, and disillusioned self-respect. Hers were simple – no children and no animals. Therefore, everything else was up for grabs. Theft. Arson. Intimidation. Kidnapping. Torture. Murder. And her personal specialty – bounty. For the right price of course. She wasn’t an idiot. And she sure as hell wasn’t cheap.

Good guys. Bad guys. She’d worked for them all. From those of renowned self-importance all the way down to the lowest of nobodies. She couldn’t care less. As long as she got paid, she did her job. No questions asked. 

“Haven’t seen _you_ for a while,” said the owner of the small corner store. He was an older gentleman, greasy around the edges with a wandering eye that made even her skin crawl. But the store was convenient. It was small, indistinct, and located in the middle of the city. Which meant the area around it was large and busy enough to make someone traveling to it invisible. People often frequented the location when they found themselves in need of discretion. Sure, there were plenty of other shops in the city that fit the same bill, but only this one sold the more…unsavory items. Eventually, the people she was looking for always showed up here.

“I’ve been working,” Brenna replied, hugging the oversized coat around her body and taking a moment to scratch at her arms and the side of her face – imitating the mannerisms of the part she was playing.

Letting out a short, boisterous laugh, the shopkeeper eyed her up and down from her unkept curls to her dirty clothes, and seemingly drugged out appearance, “I’ve got a few ways in mind on how you can make a little extra cash.”

“ _Il faut tourner sept fois sa langue dans sa bouche avant de parler_ ,” she seethed under her breath, turning from his leering gaze and heading down an aisle. If the man was smart – he’d watch his mouth. But then again, she was only the woman he’d watched dissolve into addiction and mental illness for the past four years. And he was useful. If she killed him, it was unlikely the next owner would be as conveniently idiotic with a streak for the illegal.

Pretending to fiddle with a packet of gum, her eyes darted to the front door. The familiar chime sounded through the air and Brenna kept her eyes low as she covertly checked out the stranger who’d just entered. He was tall and large, his size taking up an impressive amount of space in the tiny shop. His figure, while solid and imposing, held a contrasting lightness to it. The juxtaposition of his heavy density but delicate way in which he stepped intrigued her. Stumbling through the aisles, she made sure to draw enough attention to catch his eye. Reveling when the stranger’s gaze darted to her for the slightest of seconds, she turned to the cooler and began to mumble nonsense under her breath as she used the reflection of the glass to continue watching.

“Can I help you?” the shopkeeper asked, standing taller and squaring his shoulders in a pathetic attempt to make himself seem intimidating. The stranger didn’t seem fazed in the least, stepping up to the counter.

“I need papers,” said the stranger, his voice a soothing gravelly tone.

“Papers?” The shopkeeper feigned an incredulous, dumb expression, “I’m not sure what you mean.”

Brenna rolled her eyes; it was the same every time. Why the man bothered, she had no idea. He always dropped the act after the second inquiry.

“Listen – let’s not waste our time. I know you provide papers, so just take this—” the stranger spoke low and firmly, reaching into his backpack and pulling out a heavy manila folder before slamming it onto the counter “—and do your fucking job.”

Brenna’s eyebrows rose against her will; that was definitely a response she had never heard before. You’d think from the ease in which the stranger handled the situation, he’d been here before – but he hadn’t. She knew that. Even when she wasn’t here, she kept tabs on all her spots. A flash of metallic silver caught her eye. A sliver of metal peeking through the gap between his gloved hand and clothed arm.

Bingo.

Reaching into the cooler and grabbing a forty of malt liquor, she stumbled to the front, pushing herself between the stranger and the tense shopkeeper.

“Listen—” she slurred “—Chessa. I don’t have enough for this today, but I swear, I’ll have the money tomorrow.”

“I’m dealing with a customer here woman, besides you know the rules – no handouts. I’m not running a charity for fucking junkies.”

“Oh, come on, Chessa. You know I’m good for it!” she pleaded, knocking into the stranger and leaning heavily over the counter. “I’m good for the money Chessa. I’m good for it.”

The harsh smack of the back of shopkeeper’s hand to the side of her face, made her head snap to the side and her ears ring. The throbbing pain and blood that pooled in her mouth was expected but not the worst she’d ever felt – he hit like a fucking bitch.

“Fuck you!” she exclaimed, reeling back and smashing the glass bottle of liquor onto the laminate flooring before storming out of the shop with the sound of the shopkeeper calling her a ‘Junky Cunt’ following behind.

Walking down the street and turning into an alleyway, she worked her jaw back and forth, spitting the blood that had pooled in her mouth onto the filthy cement.

“ _Salaud. Un jour, je vais le tuer_ ,” she grumbled to herself, leaning against the damp brick alley wall and waiting. The stranger was definitely her target. That much was true. The opportunity to lean in and confirm that the flash of silver she’d spied was in fact, a full metal arm, almost made getting back handed like a bitch worth it. Almost.

A few minutes later, the stranger, clad in a grubby red Henley and tattered ballcap, walked right past her. People were so predictable. Waiting a beat, she turned out of the alley and began to follow the man at a leisurely pace, mentally noting the small details about him that might be helpful later. Things like how he favored his right side, but still walked with his weight drawn to the left; most likely due to the metal arm. A metal arm – she’d seen it all now. When her employer had briefed her on the job, she’d made a mental note of the unusual characteristic. The way they had described him, extremely dangerous and not to be underestimated, she assumed they wanted her to take him out. But to her surprise, they insisted that he be taken in alive. What made this guy so special? Eyeing the backpack strapped securely around his center and the multipurpose boots laced tightly, she could tell he was ready to run at any moment. The way in which he handled the shopkeeper said he was a man of action – he had no time to fuck around. But there was a reservation to the way in which he did it that made it known he wasn’t desperate either. That was something different from the people she was usually hired to find. Still – he had shown up exactly where she expected him to be. Twice now. He was just as predictable as all the rest. If she was right, he’d turn left any second now.

Just as she predicted, the man took a left turn on the following street. Smirking to herself, she lowered her head and keeping a casual pace, turned the corner as well. However, her confidence was shaken when she found no sight of the stranger upon rounding the corner. Where could he possibly have gone? Speeding up, Brenna scanned the area around her, looking for any signs of the stranger with the metal arm. What was it her employer had said? Do not underestimate him? It was her confusion that kept her from spotting the movement to her left until it was too late. A hand reaching out from the gap between two buildings grabbed her by the collar of her jacket and pulled her into the small space. The section between the two buildings could hardly be called an alleyway – more like an architectural blip as the width was only large enough for herself and an inch of space from where the stranger stood, looking down at her dangerously.

The first thing she noticed was the striking color of his eyes. Impossibly blue. Clear and blue with the slightest mix of green around the iris. It was like looking into a beautiful, crystal clear pond. The thought held reminiscent of another time. Another life. Strong arms, a rich umber color, same as hers, holding her close. A soft breeze. The light chirp of Citril finches high above.

“Why are you following me?” he asked, speaking low and sternly.

Lost in the mixed emotions of his eyes and the memories they produced; she did not answer right away. Instead she stared at him dumbfounded as if she hadn’t done this almost her entire life.

“I’m not going to ask again—” the stranger leaned forward, the hot puff of his breath hitting her face “—why are you following me? Who do you work for?”

Thinking fast on her feet, Brenna found herself taking an approach she never had before. But then, this target was different from any other she’d encountered. He was smart. Smart enough to figure out she was following him in less than ten minutes. Perhaps he knew in the corner shop when she’d bumped into him. Maybe even from the moment he’d walked in. If that were true, then he knew she used disguises, deception, and lies to do her job. She needed a new approach. She needed to intertwine honesty with the lies.

“Hydra. I work for Hydra.”

His grip tightened on the collar of her jacket, a second hand coming up to wrap around her neck. Brenna suppressed the instinctual reaction to fight back. She was working an angle here and based on the strength and the mechanical whirring of the arm that currently held her life in its hand, she knew when she was at a disadvantage.

“Let me guess, they hired you to find me. Take me back?”

She nodded, feeling the grip tighten and her air supply cut off little by little. Every fiber of her being begged for her to fight for her life – to twist and squirm in his grip. Yet, she stayed still; the whole time, never looking away from the intensity of his stare. The secret to a good lie was always in the eyes.

“Well I’m not goin’ back. So, give me one good reason why I shouldn’t snap your neck right now,” the blue-eyed stranger said, looming over her as black spots began to overtake her vision.

“You—” she struggled with the words, her body screaming for the sweet relief of oxygen “—you got out. You got away. How?” Her body, no longer able to remain slack, convulsed, hands flying up claw at the unmoving forearm. Legs kicking out underneath her, she dangled from her neck alone. His hand did not loosen, but the expression on his face softened ever so slightly. A micro-expression of confusion.

“Why do you care?” he asked her, still holding tight to her airway. Either he was unaware of just how close she was to passing out, or he didn’t care. Brenna used every last ounce of her strength to stay conscious. The focus of her eyes went blurry, her head swam, but her answer to his question was surely the answer to her survival as well.

“I want out too.”

When she awoke, the first thing Brenna became aware of was a dry heat and the sound of running water. Opening her eyes, she took in the sight of a small bedroom. It was dirty; wallpaper peeled from the walls in thick, grey strips revealing the rotting plaster behind it. Floorboards covered in dirt and dust, warped and twisted, giving the floor an unusual texture. Across the room sat an old space heater, plugged into a questionable outlet that threatened electrical fire at any moment. It was aimed directly at her body, which was unmistakably absent of the clothes she’d been wearing earlier. Instead, only her panties and undershirt remained. Attempting to roll from the bed, she found herself hindered by an unforgiving pull at her wrists. Looking above her head, she saw her wrists expertly bound to the old, iron headboard. The knot was unyielding as she pulled firmly at it, testing its strength. Her heart rate sped, but she willed herself to stay calm, present, collected. Nothing felt amiss as she took a moment to assess her body. No aches or pains in any place but her neck and face. The water she had heard upon waking up, was now very clearly the sound of a shower running. Eyes scanning the room, she spotted her clothes sitting on an old chair. This wasn’t the worst scenario she had ever found herself in. Montreal would still be the worst. This was nothing. She just needed a plan.

Unfortunately, Brenna was given no time to come up with one. From the other room, the sounds of a squeaky faucet turning and someone shuffling around could be heard. When the stranger appeared from behind the bathroom door, he was dressed once again in the same dark wash jeans, but this time with a fresh, loose fitting t-shirt. His feet were bare, a bold choice in her opinion, but then again, the person in charge of finding him was right there, tied to his bed. His hair hung, wet and tousled, dripping water onto his shoulders and sliding down onto the expanse of his metal arm. In short sleeves, Brenna was able to see the full extent of the appendage. It was more magnificent than she could have imagined. It moved, shifted, twitched like a one of flesh and blood. Yet there is was – an amalgamation of metal, gears, and wires. Shifting her gaze from the mechanical anomaly, she took in the rest of him. He really was quite handsome. Strong jawline, high cheekbones, a nice symmetrical face, a built physique, a little pretty, a little rugged. If she wasn’t worried he would kill her any moment, she’d find the fact that she was tried up in his bed to be exciting. It wasn’t often that she received a job that was so easy on the eyes. And Brenna was never one to pass up opportunistic situations.

“You’re awake,” said the stranger, walking over to the small chair and moving her clothes out of the way before sitting down. The wood groaned under his weight, but he trusted it as he sat down fully. He’d sat in it before – which meant he’d most likely been in this location for longer than a few days.

“And alive,” Brenna responded, staring hard at the man across from her. “Why?”

The blue-eyed stranger took a moment to contemplate the answer, staring through her as he clenched his jaw, “You said you wanted out. I figured if that were even remotely true, I should try to help.”

“That’s quite a bit of generosity for someone who’s running for their life. Savior complex?”

“Heavy conscience. I have a several lifetimes to atone for.” He spoke the words with a burdensome resolution.

“I think you and I both know that there’s no atonement for the things we’ve been forced to do,” she half lied. It was true there was no saving her soul, but no one had forced her to do anything against her will in almost twenty years. The way in which the blue-eyed stranger assessed her, gave her hope that her plan was working. She was building a rapport. However, the part of her that craved danger found itself unable to hold back a flirtatious comment, “But you know what they say – A sin confessed is half forgiven. Care to confess and repent, Blue Eyes? I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

He laughed unamusedly, leaning back in the chair and crossing his arms in front of his chest, “I think I’ll pass.”

The crossing of his arms only seemed to fuel the inappropriate attraction she was feeling. His arms and shoulders were so ridiculously large, and it had been so long since she’d had someone…large. Flexing her fingers, Brenna could feel the blood draining from her hands, leaving a tingling feeling behind. Pulling on the restraints she slid herself into a sitting position, “Tell me, Blue Eyes, do you always tie up the women you help?”

“I had to make sure you wouldn’t run away before I decided to trust you. I also needed a shower. Didn’t know when you’d wake up.”

“And my clothes?” Brenna asked him, raising an eyebrow.

“After you passed out, I figured it was best to search you for weapons,” he answered, continuing to stare at her, a bored expression plastered across his face.

“Well you were certainly thorough. Did you have your fill while I was unconscious?”

“That implies that I cared enough to look.”

Brenna smiled, slow and sly as she narrowed her eyes at him, “Pity.”

She couldn’t say for certain, but she could have sworn she saw the corner of his mouth twitch at her comment.

“Well, are you going to untie me, or do I have the pleasure of staying on your bed, half-naked, for the forceable future?”

The blue-eyed stranger stood, stalking towards her as he pulled a knife from his pocket. Brenna’s flinched at the flick of the blade, an instinctual reaction that she could tell made the man pause for a fraction of a second.

“Well, you didn’t have any weapons on your person. Not even a knife. If Hydra had sent you to capture me and you had been serious about doing it, I doubt you’d come empty handed,” he mused, reaching your side and leaning over her grabbing for her wrists.

“Just like that then? You didn’t find anything on me, so you trust me?” A decent amount of skepticism would be expected in a situation like this. A woman looking to get out from under the thumb of Hydra and their dastardly ways. A woman genuinely putting her trust in this stranger.

“You tell me something—” he stared down at her, knife paused against the rope at her wrists “—They must have told you about me when they assigned you to find me. Why in the world would you trust me to save you?” Brenna couldn’t help it, once again she was lost in the strange familiarity of the blue-green depths of his eyes. Like floating in the crisp waters of a memory.

“I didn’t,” she answered truthfully, fully intending to make up something contrived and pathetic. However, her mouth was speaking before her mind could catch up, iterating the thoughts that flowed through her head. “Not at first. And then I looked in your eyes and knew that I could.”

And she did. If she genuinely was looking to put her trust in someone, it might just be the man in front of her. But she wasn’t looking to trust anyone.

The blue-eyed stranger assessed her for a few more seconds, before pushing his blade through the thick rope as if it was paper thin. At the sweet release of her arms, Brenna brought them to her chest, rubbing at the tender skin as blood began to flow back into the appendages. Upon seeing that he had not stepped away from her, Brenna looked up at the blue-eyed stranger a breath away from her. He looked at her; he was searching for something – but for what she did not know. The truth? Her secret? Her story? Whatever it was, it didn’t matter. He’d never get it.

“Trying to find something, Blue Eyes?” she asked playfully.

He pulled back, as if he had just become aware of his staring in that moment. Shaking his head and stepping back, he gave her space to swing her legs over the edge of the bed.

“Shower’s free if you want one – can’t promise there’ll be a lot of hot water,” he said, turning from her and heading towards the doorway that lead out of the bedroom.

“It’s a shame I didn’t wake up sooner. We could have conserved the hot water by sharing.” Her comment fell on deaf ears as he continued out of the room. Laughing to herself, Brenna stood and entered the bathroom, not bothering to close the door behind her as she turned the water on and stripped from the rest of her clothes. Taking a moment to stare in the mirror above the sink, she assessed the damage to her face and neck. Red and yellow bruising was already making an appearance on her skin across her left cheek bone and in a ring around her neck. Delicately, she traced the handprint that graced the golden-brown skin of her throat. In a few days they would fade, but till then she was marked with the evidence of being bested by her target. Her normally springy, dark brown curls hung limp and frizzy above her shoulders – partly from her own doing to appear the part of ‘down on her luck’, but also from, what she could only assume, the less than careful way she was transported to the apartment she currently resided.

Stepping into the lukewarm water, she reveled in the feel of it running down her body. Eyeing the contents of the shower, she was not surprised to see a lack of conditioner. Picking up the bar of soap, she began to work it over her body, wiping away the grime and dirt. She scrubbed at her nail beds, thoroughly before set the bar down and sighing at the two-in-one shampoo. Her hair would not thank her for it, but she reasoned it was better than the gritty feeling on the surface of her scalp. So, she squeezed a small amount onto the palm of her hand and made special care to keep the product near her scalp only. Standing under the heavy stream, she contemplated what her next move was.

Clearly, she had gained his trust or at the very least did not come off as a threat to him. She could laugh at the thought. Just as much as people were predictable, they were equally narrow-minded and uncreative. Why did everyone always assume that the small were weak or that you needed something as primitive as a knife or a gun to incapacitate a man? Rolling her head from side to side, she knew that this whole thing could end in a matter of seconds if she wanted it to. She could easily have the man immobilized at her feet and be collecting her money. But where was the fun in that? It was so rare that she found herself in a titillating scenario as the one she was in now. No, it would be so much more satisfying to see how far she could push the ‘kindred broken spirits, looking for a new life and purpose’ thing.

Turning off the water that had long run cold, she pulled the curtain back and stepped out onto the ratted, thread-bare mat. Looking to the open doorway, she found the blue-eyed stranger standing, towel and her folder clothes in his arms. He stood solid and stoic; his face inscrutable as his eyes scanned the line of her body. Like a heavy-handed caress, he followed her hills and valleys from the curve of her full thighs to the peaks of her modest breasts. Sexual tension hung in the space between them like the steam that floated throughout the humid air around her. Stepping lightly across the bathroom floor, she took the towel and clothes from his arms.

“Thank you,” she spoke softly, watching with rapt interest as the man before her appeared to battle with something internally. Presented to him like a feast for the starving, she wondered why he did not partake in tasting the delicacy before him. Was it the heavy conscience he claimed the possess? Or was it something far more trivial – such as the simple issue of consent. People really ought to just take what they want. Rising onto her toes, the towel and clothes dropped to the floor as she wrapped her arms around his neck and brought her full lips to brush against the warmth of his own mouth. Fingers of flesh and metal gripped her naked body as they consumed each other – lips, tongue, and teeth. Pressing her wet form into the hard plane of this body, the blue-eyed stranger groped the ample flesh of her ass tightly as they stumbled in the direction of the bed. Turning him, Brenna used the full force of her strength to push him onto the mattress below her. He fell, willingly, allowing her to climb onto his lap, taking his own wrists in her hands and pinning them above him. Her wet curls hung heavy around her face, dripping the blue-eyed stranger below her, but he didn’t seem to care as he broke from her grasp and reached up to cup the back of her head. He pulled her down, capturing her bottom lips between his teeth.

The control she had was short lived. Distracted by the heat of his kiss, she allowed the blue-eyed stranger to gain the upper hand. Flipping them over so that she lay on her stomach, face pushed into the firm springs of the mattress, he reached around her and massaged the tender flesh of a breast. Arching her back, Brenna pressed her ass firmly into the front of his jeans, rewarded by the rigid length of his cock. Growling low in his throat, he bit down on the junction of her neck and shoulder causing her to cry out. He continued to nip and suck at the sensitive flesh of her shoulder as he braced himself above her, right hand traveling from her breast to the juncture between her legs. Finding the flesh there warm, wet, and ready, he wasted no time in plunging his fingers into her depths. Brenna moaned, low and needy as he stroked her in long, forceful pulls.

Pulling from her completely, Brenna felt empty and wanting. Moving to turn, a hand to the center of her back kept in place as the sounds of shuffling fabric filled her ears. The next thing she knew, she was being filled by the white-hot length of him. Thick and long and raw, he bottomed out in her before pulling out slowly and reentering with similar force. Wrapping his metal arm around her middle and his flesh arm across her chest, he laid his body flush against her as he fucked her. The intimate way in which he took his time, languidly and passionately bringing her towards her crest, contrasted so unbearably well with the rough and filthy fact that he’d rather have her this way – unable to see her face as he entered her and still wearing all his clothes.

It wasn’t long before she could feel the familiar pressure building within her. Nails digging into the flesh of his forearm, Brenna found what little power she could in the movement of her hips. Grinding back against him, they battled for dominance over the pace and angle as they both chased their own release. Never before had she fought for control in bed. Like most things in her life, it was an area she governed – domineering and calling the shots in her own pleasure. However, now, as the blue-eyed stranger plowed into her at a pace he dictated, she found herself panting and whining like a desperate woman asking for permission. What was it about this man that made every facet of her being fade away – replaced only by someone reckless and willing to potentially lose?

A few more thrusts and her orgasm overtook her, leaching the ecstasy from her very bones. The blue-eyed stranger followed quickly, pulling out and spilling on the small of her back. Brenna took a moment to catch her breath as he collapsed beside her. In a surprising act of intimacy, the blue-eyed stranger pulled her into his side, wrapping an arm protectively around her. Looking at the relaxed expression on his face, Brenna couldn’t help but feel as though she should feel guilty. It was unfortunate his peaceful state was about to end. Parting her lips, she reached discretely into her mouth and grasp her front left canine between her thumb and pointer finger. She pulled it with little effort, twisting as she went until she felt the familiar pop. Taking the tooth from her mouth, she revealed the sharp, needle end where the root should be. There was no hesitation in her movements as plunged the metal into the side of his neck, knowing instantly that the tranquilizer was already seeping into his system.

The blue-eyed stranger’s eyes flew open, scrambling away from her as he brought a hand up to the point of entry. A shocked and confused expression washed across his face, and then one of sick realization. Brenna slid from the bed, standing and walking towards her discarded clothes in the bathroom. The stranger tried to follow her, falling pathetically to the floor as his legs gave way underneath him. She dressed quickly, reaching into the pocket of her coat and pulling out an old, burner phone – something he had apparently deemed nonthreatening. She snapped a picture of him, lying there helplessly, staring at her with betrayal in his blue-green eyes.

Texting the proof of a job well done to her employer, along with the words “It’s done. Come and get him.”—incase the picture wasn’t clear enough, she discarded of the phone out the window, no longer in need of it.

“They should be here soon. Try to keep it together until then – wouldn’t want you choking on your own tongue, now would I?” she remarked, heading towards the door.

“Why?” The words stopped her. She supposed he deserved an answer.

Turning around, she sauntered over to him and crouched down on the balls of her feet. She took his handsome face in her hand, squeezing his jaw between her fingers as she stared into the depths of his for the last time. Why indeed. She could have plunged that needle into his neck at any moment. So why had she decided to do it this way?

Tonguing the empty space within her upper row of teeth, she took a moment to ponder the answer before speaking, **“I do everything for a reason. Most of the time the reason is money.** But you, Blue Eyes? You were more personal. I did you…for me.”


End file.
